LYRICS 


LEGENDS 


{    LIBRARY 

1         UNIVERSITY  OF 


LYRICS  AND  LEGENDS 


BY 


NORA    PERRY 

AUTHOR  OF  "AFTER  THE  BALL  AND  OTHER  POEMS,"  "NEW  SONGS 

AND  BALLADS,1'  "A  FLOCK  OF  GIKLS  AND  THEIR  FRIENDS," 

"ANOTHER  FLOCK  OF  GIRLS,"  ETC. 


r 


BOSTON 

LITTLE,    BROWN,    AND    COMPANY 
1891 


Copyright,  1S91, 
BY  NORA  PERKY 


JOHN  WILSON  AND  SON,  CAMBRIDGE. 


/ 


Songs  of  Spring. 

PAGE 

WHAT  THE  CROCUS  SAID        9 

THE  EASTER  MESSAGE       12 

THE  COMING  OF  THE  SPRING 15 

MAIDEN  MAY 18 

Songs  of  Summer. 

To  THE  SWEETHEART  JUNE       23 

QUEEN  OF  THEM  ALL 25 

FLOWER  DANCE 27 

DAWN 29 

Autumn. 

AFTER  VACATION 33 

THE  SONG  OF  THE  CHRYSANTHEMUM 35 


iv  C  out  nits. 

SHt'nter. 

PAGE 

THE  OLD  AND  THE  NEW  .....    .....    •    •  39 

ILofoe  anti  Jncntisfjip. 

WHERE  ?     ..................  45 

THE  ROSE  AND  THE  WEED     ...........  48 

FATE  ....................  50 

Two  FRIENDS     ................  52 

His  MESMERIC  EXPERIMENT      ..........  57 

3Lo0s  anfc  ©am. 

THROUGH  THE  STORM  .............  63 

THE  STAR  OF  TRUTH  .............  64 

THE  LESSON  OF  TRUST    ......     .     .....  66 

THE  LOST  FRIEND    ..............  68 

A  LOST  DAY    ................  70 

DISCONTENT      ...         ............  72 

LUCIFER    ..................  74 


anfc 

FROM  DAY  TO  DAY      .............  77 

A  CONQUEROR  ................  So 

TAKE  HEART  OF  GRACE  ............  84 

IN  THE  RAIN    .  86 


Contents.  v 

of  Nefa  lEnjjlantJ. 

PAGE 

THE  PILGRIM  VOYAGERS  .......    .....      91 

ON  PLYMOUTH  BAY      ...........    .     .      95 

OUR  FRENCH  ALLIES    .........     ....      98 


THE  SIEGE  or  CALAIS      ............  107 

BALBOA     ..................  119 

THE  HERO  OF  THE  FORT      ...    ........  125 

JIM    .................    •    •     •  I31 

THE  COLONEL'S  STORY    .     .  135 

THE  LITTLE  FOES     .............  i38 


r 


LYRICS   AND    LEGENDS. 


WHAT   THE    CROCUS   SAID. 

MONTH  after  month,  and  day  by  day, 
Beneath  sweet  mother  earth  I  lay, 
And  slept  and  woke,  and  slept  again, 
Lulled  by  the  whispering  winds  and  rain. 

At  times,  within  my  shrouded  bed 
I  felt  the  restless,  hurrying  tread 
Of  human  steps,  and  caught  the  beat 
Of  human  hearts  above  the  feet. 


io  Lyrics  and  Legends, 

I  kept  so  still  within  my  place 

That  though  I  did  not  see  a  face, 

I  heard  each  breath  that  passed  my  way, 

And  knew  what  every  heart  did  say. 

I  knew  their  hopes,  I  knew  their  fears, 
I  heard  their  laughter  and  their  tears ; 
But  over  all  I  heard  a  plaint, 
Now  lifted  high,  now  falling  faint,  — 

A  plaint  of  doubt,  and  doubting  dread  ; 
A  questioning,  hungry  cry  that  spread 
From  heart  to  heart  until  I  heard, 
Sometimes,  no  other  sound  or  word. 

And  all  the  while  the  rootlets  grew 
About  my  bed  ;  from  old  and  new 
I  felt  the  quickening  pulse  and  breath, 
The  throes  of  life  that  conquered  death. 


Wliat  the  Crocus  said.  1 1 

I  knew  that  when  the  months  came  round 
My  leaves  would  break  the  sheltering  ground, 
Would  leap  like  light  from  out  the  earth 
In  all  the  glory  of  new  birth. 

I  knew  that  thus  from  life  to  death, 
From  death  to  life,  this  living  breath 
Of  bud  and  bloom,  of  leaf  and  flower, 
Eternal  sprang  from  hour  to  hour. 

Yet  while  thus  sentient  in  my  shroud, 
Above  me,  moving  in  a  cloud, 
These  restless  hearts  cried  in  the  bright 
And  high  noonday,  "  God,  give  us  light !  " 


THE    EASTER   MESSAGE. 

ONCE  more  the  promise  of  the  spring, 
The  quickening  and  awakening 

Of  sap  and  shoot, 

And  tender  root ; 
Once  more  the  miracle  of  birth 
Along  the  length  and  breadth  of  earth  ; 

Once  more  the  breath 

Of  life  for  death. 

Released  again  from  winter's  doom 
Of  frozen  days,  from  Lenten  gloom, 

We  seem  to  stand 

In  some  new  land, 

And  fresh  the  breeze  that  blows  abroad 
That  brings  the  message  of  our  Lord, 


The  Easier  Message.  13 


The  heavenly  breath 

Of  life  for  death. 
Oh,  spirit  folded  in  thy  sleep, 
Oh,  soul  long  buried  fathoms  deep 

Beneath  the  old 

Material  mould, 

Fling  off  the  load  that,  year  by  year, 
Has  veiled  thy  sight  and  dulled  thine  ear ; 

And  as  the  lark 

Doth,  soaring,  hark 
To  heavenly  sounds,  so  hearken  thou 
To  that  low  voice  that  calleth  now 

Across  the  dark. 

Oh,  wake  and  hark, 

The  night  goes  fast !    Oh,  wake  and  pray, 
For  't  is  the  dawn  of  Easter  day, 

When  heaven  doth  lift 

Above  the  drift 


14  Lyrics  and  Legends, 

Of  self  and  sense  ;  when  budding  earth, 
Renews  the  parable  of  birth ; 

When  Christ  doth  wake 

With  us  to  break 

The  bond  of  sense  which  is  our  pall,  — 
Doth  wake  and  wait  while  He  doth  call, 

"  Oh,  here  and  now 

Awaken  thou  !  " 


THE   COMING   OF  THE   SPRING. 

THERE  's  something  in  the  air 
That 's  new  and  sweet  and  rare  — 
A  scent  of  summer  things, 
A  whirr  as  if  of  wings. 

There  's  something  too  that 's  new 
In  the  color  of  the  blue 
That 's  in  the  morning  sky, 
Before  the  sun  is  high. 

And  though  on  plain  and  hill, 
'T  is  winter,  winter  still, 
There  's  something  seems  to  say 
That  winter  's  had  its  day. 


1 6  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

And  all  this  changing  tint, 
This  whispering  stir  and  hint 
Of  bud  and  bloom  and  wing, 
Is  the  coming  of  the  spring. 

And  to-morrow  or  to-day 
The  brooks  will  break  away 
From  their  icy,  frozen  sleep, 
And  run  and  laugh  and  leap. 

And  the  next  thing,  in  the  woods, 
The  catkins  in  their  hoods 
Of  fur  and  silk  will  stand, 
A  sturdy  little  band. 

And  the  tassels  soft  and  fine 
Of  the  hazel  will  untwine, 
And  the  elder  branches  show 
Their  buds  against  the  snow. 


The  Coming  of  the  Spring.  17 

So,  silently  but  swift, 
Above  the  wintry  drift, 
The  long  days  gain  and  gain, 
Until,  on  hill  and  plain, 

Once  more,  and  yet  once  more 
Returning  as  before, 
We  see  the  bloom  of  birth 
Make  young  again  the  earth. 


MAIDEN    MAY. 

OH,  what 's  the  day,  and  where  's  the  way 
That  brought  you  hither,  sweeting? 

The  hills  were  brown  as  you  came  down, 
The  skies  with  tears  were  greeting. 

But  as  you  pass,  the  sodden  grass 
Takes  on  a  sudden  splendor  ; 

And  April  dries  her  weeping  eyes, 
Then  smiles  in  sweet  surrender. 

Oh,  whereaway  did  you  delay ; 

In  what  near  nook,  my  sweeting, 
Did  slyly  stand,  so  close  at  hand, 

While  April  stood  a-greeting? 


Maiden  May.  19 


No  breath  of  you  was  in  the  dew, 

No  hint  of  you  before  us ; 
The  winds  were  wet  with  April  yet, 

And  sobbing  in  a  chorus, 

When,  swift  and  strong,  you  came  along 

As  if  nowise  belated, 
Your  face  alight  with  blushes  bright, 

Your  arms  with  blossoms  freighted. 

You  lifted  up  each  flowery  cup, 

Yourself  a  flowery  vision  ; 
At  April  fears  of  April 's  tears, 

You  laughed  in  gay  derision. 

For  what  were  fears,  and  what  were  tears, 

To  you,  my  merry  maiden, 
As  you  came  down  the  hillside  brown 

With  rosy  May-flowers  laden? 


2O  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

But  whereaway,  oh,  whereaway, 
In  what  near  nook,  my  sweeting, 

Did  you  find  room  to  hide  your  bloom, 
While  April  stood  a-greeting? 


TO   THE   SWEETHEART  JUNE. 

HERE  's  to  my  love,  and  here  's  to  my  dove, 

And  here  's  to  my  darling  and  dear ; 
From  the  dew  of  the  rose,  as  it  bourgeons  and  blows, 

I  will  drink  to  my  sweetheart  here. 

With  the  eyes  of  a  lover,   I  watch  her  come  over 

The  crest  of  the  purple   hills ; 
My  pulses  beat  at  the   sound  of  her  feet, 

Along  by  the  rivers  and  rills. 

For  at  ever  so  light  a  touch,   or  so  slight, 

A  tuneful  song  doth  arise, 
And  as  ever  so  swift  the  waters  drift, 

They  catch  the  blue  of  her  eyes. 


24  Lyrics  and  Legends. 


And  where  she  passes,  the  emerald  grasses, 

The  flowering  garden  and  glade, 
Lift  higher  and  higher  each  tender  spire, 

Of  bud  and  blossom  and  blade. 

And  the  soul  of  the  rose  is  wooed  to  unclose, 

And  slip  from  its  sheath  of  death, 
To  revel  anew  in  the  sun  and  the  dew, 

At  the  touch  of  her  balmy  breath. 

Then  drink  to  her  health,  and  drink  to  her  wealth 

Of  summer  bloom  and  cheer, 
As  through  the  grasses  she  lightly  passes, 

The  sweetheart  of  the  year. 


QUEEN    OF   THEM    ALL. 

BREATH  of  the  wind  that  blows  and  blows, 
South  and  west,  and  west  and  south, 

Bring  us  a  lily,  bring  us  a  rose, 

Sweet  with  a  kiss  of  your  balmy  mouth. 

April  has  lost  her  golden  blows 
Of  cowslip,  crocus,  daffydowndilly, 

And  May-buds  cry,  "  'T  is  the  time  of  the  rose, 
And   her  maid  of  honor,  the  garden  lily." 

One  by  one  they  have  all  made  room, 
April  and  May-flowers  stepped  aside, 

Waiting  for  her,  —  the  rose  in  bloom, 

And  her  maid  of  honor  dressed  like  a  bride. 


26  Lyrics  and  Legends, 

Veiled  and  shrouded  they  wait  to  go,  — 
These  flowers  of  April,  flowers  of  May; 

What  do  they  wait  for,  do  you  know, 
Lingering,  loitering  thus  by  the  way? 

Just  for  a  glimpse  of  the  queen  of  them  all, 
And  her  maid  of  honor  dressed  like  a  bride, 

Coming  along,  stately  and  tall, 
Royal  beauties  side  by  side. 

Then  will  the  loiterers  bid  good-by, 
And  into  their  stalks  will  shrink  away, 

And  half  with  a  smile,  and  half  with  a  sigh, 
Nod  and  murmur,  "  We  've  had  our  day." 

So,  breath  of  the  wind  that  blows  and  blows, 
South  and  west,  and  west  and  south, 

Hasten  and  bring  us  the  lily  and  rose, 
Sweet  with  the  kiss  of  your  balmy  mouth. 


FLOWER   DANCE. 

On,  hearken  and  listen 

When  honey-dews  glisten 
At  eve  or  at  morn 
On  the  flower  o'  the  corn,- 

On  the  lips  of  the  lily 

And  the  daffydowndilly, 

On  the  bud  o'  the  rose 
As  it  turns  to  unclose, 

On  the  white  daisy  faces 

That  smile  in  their  places. 
Oh,  hearken  and  list, 
For  this  is  the  tryst 

That  brings  the  bee  hither 

A-tuning  his  zither 


28  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

To  waltz  and  galop, 
Till  swiftly  we  go, 
We  lilies  and  roses 
And  all  the  sweet  posies 

That  summer  doth  bring, 
In  a  mad  merry  swing. 


DAWN. 

ONE  moment  in  a  sleep  like  death 
The  world  of  Nature  holds  its  breath, 
'Mid  darkness  such  as  might  have  been 
In  days  of  midnight  chaos  ;  then, 
Another  moment,  'thwart  the  gloom 
Cometh  a  mist  of  light,  a  bloom 
Like  that  upon  the  purple  store 
Of  vintages ;   a  moment  more, 
A  slender,  piping  note  is  heard, 
Then  throat  by  throat  each  hidden  bird 
Breaks  into  tune,  —  a  herald's  lay, 
That  ushers  in  the  dawn  of  day. 


AFIER   VACATION. 

HERE  they  come,  the  happy  crew, 
Merry  monarchs  through  and  through, 
Laughing,  chattering,  all  together, 
In  the  red-leafed  autumn  weather. 

Once  again  the  streets  are  gay 
As  a  gypsy's  holiday; 
Once  again  has  life  begun 
Fresh  and  fair  beneath  the  sun. 

Yesterday  the  toiling  town 
Dull  with  care  was  bending  down ; 
Now  to-day  it  lifts  its  head, 
For  to-day  dull  care  has  fled,  — 

3 


34  Lyrics  and  Legends. 


Vanished   for  the   moment  quite, 
At  the  sudden  sound  and  sight 
Of  this  heedless  happy  crew, 
Merry  monarchs  through  and  through. 

What  to  them  the  cares  that  weigh? 
'T  is  the  breaking  of  their  day, 
When  across  the  morning  skies 
Only  rainbow- hopes  arise. 

Theirs  to  be  the  lot  and  part 
Of  bold  conquerors  at  the  start ; 
Every  dragon  fear  and  doubt, 
Lion-hearted  they  will  rout 


THE    SONG    OF    THE    CHRYSANTHEMUM. 

AT  last  1   have  come   to  my  throne. 
No  more,  despised  and  unknown, 

In  gardens  forlorn 

My  blossoms  are   born  ; 
No  more  in  some  corner  obscure 
Do  I  drearily,  sadly  endure 

The  withering  blight 

Of  neglect  and  of  slight ; 
Oh,  long  have  I  waited  and  late, 
For  this  fair  and  slow-coming  fate, 

Which  the  years  have  foretold 

As  they  sighingly  rolled. 
Oh,  long  have  I  waited  and  lone ; 
But  at  last,  on  my  blossomy  throne, 


36  Lyrics  and  Legends. 


The  world  doth  declare 

I  am  fairest  of  fair, 
And  queen  of  the  autumn  I  reign, 
With  a  sway  that  none  may  disdain,— 

I,  once  who  did  stand, 

Despised  in  the  land. 


THE    OLD   AND   THE    NEW. 

I. 

SAID  the  year  that  was  old, 

"  I  am  cold,  I  am  cold, 
And  my  breath  hurries  fast 

On  the  wild  winter  blast 
Of  this  thankless  December. 

Ah,  who  will  remember 
As  T  shivering  go, 

The  warmth  and  the  glow, 
That  arose  like  a  flame, 

When  I  came,  when  I  came? 
For  T  brought  in  my  hands 

From  Utopian  lands 


40  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

Golden  gifts,  and  the  schemes 

That  were  fairer  than  dreams. 
Ah,  never  a  king 

Of  a  twelvemonth  will  bring 
Such  splendor  of  treasure, 

Without  stint  or  measure, 
As  I  brought  on  that  day, 

Triumphant  and  gay. 
But  alas,  and  alas, 

Who  will  think  as  I  pass 
I  was  once  gay  and  bold?" 

Sighed  the  year  that  was  old. 

II. 

Said  the  year  that  was  young,  — 
And  his  light  laughter  rung,  — 

"  Come,  bid  me  good  cheer, 
For  I  bring  with  me  here 


The  Old  and  the  New.  41 

Such  gifts  as  the  earth 

Never  saw  till  my  birth. 
All  the  largess  of  life, 

Right  royally  rife 
With  the  plans  and  the  schemes 

Of  the  world's  highest  dreams ; 
Then,  Hope's  chalice  filled  up 

To  the  brim  of  the  cup, 
Let  us  drink  to  the  past, 

The  poor  pitiful  past," 
Sang  the  year  that  was  young, 

While  his  light  laughter  rung. 


WHERE? 

WHERE  went  you  on  that  August  day, 
When  out  of  sight  you  took  your  way? 
The  sun  was  soft,  the  winds  were  low, 
No  breath  of  bitterness  did  blow 
For  dying  summer  as  it  went ; 
But  bitter,  bitter  breath  was  spent 
In  bitter  tears  for  you  that  day, 
As  out  of  sight  you  took  your  way. 

Where  did  you  go,  my  love,  my  dear? 
Into  what  country,  far  or  near, 
By  mountain  path  or  shoreless  main, 
Took  you  that  wealth  of  heart  and  brain, 


46  Lyrics  and  Legends. 


That  voice  of  music,  and  that  face 
That  made  the  world  an  empty  place 
For  me,  to  me,  when  out  of  sight 
And  sound  and  touch  they  vanished  quite? 

Where  did  you  go?     O  love,  come  back 
One  moment  down  that  shadowed  track, 
And  give  me  news,  and  tell  me  where, 
What  way  your  wandering  steps  did  fare ; 
And  if  some  tender  hand  did  lead, 
Some  voice  did  soothe,  perhaps,  at  need, 
So  that  you  missed  not  overmuch, 
In  that  strange  hour,  my  voice  and  touch. 

Ah,  never  had  I  failed  before 
To  follow  where  your  footsteps  bore, 
Or  by  your  side  to  hold  my  way  — 
Ah,  never  yet,  until  that  day, 


Where  f  47 

Just  as  the  August  day  was  spent, 
Upon  that  unknown  path  you  went, 
That  path  that  leads  —  oh,  tell  us  where, 
And  break  this  burden  of  despair  ! 


THE    ROSE   AND   THE    WEED. 

UP  these  very  stairs  she  went, 
Down  these  rooms  she  daily  sent 
Smiles  of  greeting  as  he  came ; 
Can  I  dare  to  come  and  claim 
What  she  held  with  such  a  grace  ! 
Can  I  dare  to  take  her  place? 

When  I  entered  at  the  door 
Would  her  face  not  go  before  ? 
When  my  foot  was  on  the  stair, 
Would  he  not,  before  me  there, 
Hear  her  tread,  and  thrill  with  pain, 
More  than  once  and  once  again? 


The  Rose  and  tlie   Weed.  49 

What  arn  I  beside  that  grace 
But  a  weed  thrust  out  of  place 
In  a  garden  where  the  rose 
In  her  royal  beauty  grows? 
She  had  looked  at  one  like  me 
Blindly  and  unconsciously, 

As  a  queen  might  idly  glance 
At  the  lowly  weed  perchance. 
Yet,  ah  me,  it  is  the  weed 
That  doth  sometimes  heal  at  need. 
Should  the  weed  then  vainly  care 
That  the  royal  rose  was  fair? 

Would  the  rose  dispute  the  place 
That  the  weed's  low  roots  embrace? 
And  the  lover  of  the  rose, 
Can  I  count  what  love  bestows, 
Can  I  price  its  priceless  power 
In  the  reckoning  of  an  hour? 

4 


F  A  T  E. 

THE  hour  was  late  — 
Oh,  was  it  fate? 
I  stayed  a  moment  at  the  gate 
To  see  you  pass 
Across  the  grass. 

The  hour  was  late  — 
Oh,  was  it  fate? 

For  as  you  sped 
With  hurrying  tread, 
You  lifted  up  your  bending  head, 
And  caught  with  fear 
My  shadow  near ; 

It  barred  the  gate  — 
Oh,  was  it  fate? 


Fate.  5 1 

I  had  not  meant 
With  grave  intent 

To  seek  you  out,  when  there  I  leant 
To  watch  you  pass 
Across  the  grass ; 

But  at  the  gate  — 
Oh,  was  it  fate 

That  did  discover 
There  a  lover, 

In  one  who  'd  been  so  long  a  rover 
He  'd  half  forgot 
The  common  lot, 

The  common  fate, 
Might  him  await? 


TWO    FRIENDS. 

BITTER  words  they  'd  spoken 

Each  to  each, 
Till  a  cloud  unbroken 

Seemed  to  reach  — 
Seemed  to  float  between  them, 

Dull  and  gray, 
Like  a  veil,  to  screen  them 

Since  that  day 
Each  from  each ;  till,  alas,  there, 

Half  in  hate, 
They  did  meet  and  pass  there, 

Who  so  late 


Two  Friends.  53 


Had  been  friends  together, 

Friends  of  years, 
Through  all  winds  and  weather, 

Hopes  and  fears. 
"  All  these  years  mistaken," 

Murmured  one ; 
"  Now  to  start  and  waken, 

Find  undone, 
Ruined  past  retrieving 

At  a  blow 
All  my  fine  believing." 

Very  low 
Murmured  he,  the  other, 

"  This  the  end  ? 
More  than  any  brother 

Seemed  this  friend." 
Thus  apart  they  spoke  there 

Under  breath. 


54  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

At  that  moment  broke  there 

News  of  death. 
Faster  yet,  and  faster 

Flew  that  wail 
Of  the  dread  disaster, 

Till  the  tale 
Over  all  the  city 

Cast  its  gloom 
Of  dismay  and  pity 

For  such  doom. 
When  the  rumors  rang  there 

At  the  start, 
More  than  one  man  sprang  there 

Sick  at  heart. 
One  thus  fearing,  waited, 

Dumb  with  fear 
For  the  friend  "  half  hated," 

Now  so  dear. 


Two  Friends.  55 


Should  he  find  him  lying 

Stiff  and  stark? 
Should  he  find  him  dying? 

Hark  !  oh,  hark  ! 
Whose  the  voice  that  falls  there, 

On  his  ear  ? 
Whose  the  name  it  calls  there, 

Full  and  clear? 
Face  to  face  thus  meeting, 

Hand  to  hand, 
In  that  moment  greeting, 

Dumb  they  stand, 
With  full  hearts  outgoing, 

Each  to  each, 
With  full  eyes  o'erflowing 

For  their  speech. 
What !  they  'd  once  contended, 

Blindly  thought 


56  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

All  their  friendship  ended, 
Come  to  naught? 

Face  to  face  with  death  there, 
Out  of  sight, 

Like  a  wind-blown  breath  there, 
Fled  their  spite. 


HIS   MESMERIC   EXPERIMENT. 

BROW  bent  over,  eyelids  falling, 
All  the  soft  hair's  silken  splendor 

Lying  prest 

Against  my  breast, 
While  her  soul  in  dumb  surrender, 
Floated  upward  at  my  calling,  — 
Floated  upward  to  my  keeping, 
As  a  dove  might  float  to  capture, 

While  a  thrill, 

Swift  and  chill, 
As  of  half-remorseful  rapture, 
Through  and  through  my  veins  went  creeping. 


58  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

"  Just  a  moment  more,"  I  faltered, 
"  And  her  soul  will  lie  before  me 
Unconcealed 
And  full  revealed." 

On  that  instant  there  swept  o'er  me 
In  a  flood-tide  as  I  paltered, 
Wave  on  wave  of  bitter  leaven, 
And  I  seemed  to  hear  God  crying 
Then  and  there, 
"Oh,  beware  ! 

Hold  thee  from  thy  rash  espying. 
These  are  border  lands  of  Heaven, 
And  my  angels  at  their  portals, 
With  veiled  eyes  and  hidden  faces, 
And  my  hosts 
At  their  posts, 
Know  that  these  are  sacred  places, 


His  Mesmeric  Experiment.  59 

Guarded  'round  by  my  immortals. 

Whoso,  then,  in  rash  pursuing 

Of  his  will,  shall  seek  these  portals, 

Guarded  twice 

And  guarded  thrice 
By  this  triune  of  immortals, 
Shall  repent  with  bitter  rueing. 
Mine  alone  the  right  to  enter 
At  these  hidden  sacred  places 

Where  the  heart 

Holds  apart, 

While  the  angels  veil  their  faces; 
Mine  alone  the  right  to  enter." 
"Thine  alone,"  my  soul  and  heart  there 
Swift  responded ;  then  repeating, 

Low  of  tone, 

"Thine  alone," 
Backward  moving,  slow  retreating, 


6o  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

Silently  I  drew  apart  there. 

Thus  I  left  her.     When  she  woke  there 

Presently,  with  keen,  clear  vision 

Full  and  free, 

I  could  see 

At  a  glance  her  gay  derision, 
Ere  her  mocking  laughter  broke  there, 
Ere  she  cried  to  those  who  waited,— 
The  gay  group  of  friends  assembled,  — 

"  Failed,  you  see  !  " 

Then  to  me,  — 

While  I,  smiling  there,  dissembled, — 
"  Mesmerism  's  over-rated  !  " 


THROUGH    THE   STORM. 

I  HEARD  a  voice,  a  tender  voice  soft  falling 

Through  the  storm  • 
The  waves  were   high,  the  bitter  winds  were  calling, 

Yet  breathing  warm 
Of  skies  serene,  of  sunny  uplands  lying 

In  peace  beyond; 
This  tender  voice,  unto  my  voice  replying, 

Made  answer  fond. 
Sometimes  indeed  like  clash  of  armies  meeting 

Arose  the  gale, 
But  over  all,  that  sweet  voice  kept  repeating, 

"I  shall  not  fail." 


THE    STAR    OF   TRUTH. 

I  FOLLOW  fast,   I   follow  far, 
From  dusk  to  dusk  a  glimmering  star ; 
Ingulfed  at  times  by  thickest  night, 
I  lose  my  breath,  I  lose  my  sight. 

Then,  for  a  space,  bold  heart  and  hope 

Forsaketh  me,  yet  still  I  grope ; 

Still  by  some  instinct  led  afar 

To  seek,  and  seek  that  glimmering  star. 

From  time  to  time  false  lights  betray, 
Strange  voices  call  along  the  way ; 
Now  here,  now  there,  confused,  misled, 
I  turn  aside  with  stumbling  tread, 


77/6'  Star  of  TrntJi.  65 


And  enter  thus  with  reckless  haste 
Upon  that  barren  land  of  waste, 
Where  nothing  is,  or  is  to  be, 
But  barren  waste  eternally. 

And  o'er  this  waste  —  a  pathless  plain  — 
1   stumble  on,  to  find  again 
Old  clews  that  gather  up  the  new, 
Old  faiths  baptized  in  morning  dew. 

Then,  all  at  once,  I  see  the  white, 
Still  shining  of  that  ray  of  light, 
Where  truth  abides,  —  that  steadfast  star 
Toward  which  my  steps  have  followed  far. 


And  forward,  forward  once  again 
I  leave  behind  the  pathless  plain  ; 
Hlown  onward  by  resistless  breath 
To  find  the  clews  of  life,  in  death. 

S 


THE    LESSON    OF   TRUST. 

THESE  WAIT  ALL  UPON  THEE.  —  Psalms. 

THE  wind  of  the  morning  was  in  the  sky, 
Calling  and  calling,  now  low,  now  high  ! 
"  Awake  and  awake,  ye  bonny  wee  birds  ! 
And  awake  and  awake,  ye  flocks  and  ye  herds  !  " 

It  called  and  it  called,  long  ever  a  note 
Was  answered  back  by  a  feathered  throat ; 
And  the  flocks  and  herds  were  as  silent  and  still, 
Under  the  brow  of  the  sheltering  hill. 

But  suddenly,  through  the  darkness  there, 
Over  the  hill  and  everywhere  — 
By  field  and  wood  and  rock  and  river  — 
A  shadowy  presence  seemed  to  quiver ; 


77/6-  Lesson  of  Trust.  67 

And  straightway  out  of  a  million  throats 
Lifted  a  million  musical  notes, 
And  all  in  a  moment,  as  if  at  a  word, 
The  sleeping  cattle  awoke  and  stirred ; 

And  rock  and  river  and  plain  and  hill 
With  jubilant  life  began  to  thrill, 
While  yet  no  ]iunian  eye  could  mark 
The  spirit  of  dawn  within  tlie  dark  .' 


THE    LOST   FRIEND. 

On,  what  was  the  hour  and  the  day, 

The  moment  1  lost  you  ? 
I  thought  you  were  walking  my  way, 

I  turned  to  accost  you, 

And  silence  and  emptiness  met 

My  word  half- unspoken  ; 
But  I   thought,  and   I   said,  "  I  shall  get 

A  word  or  a  token, 

"  That  sometime  and  somewhere  he  will  wait, 

Impatient,  to  meet  me  — 
Round  the  corner,  perhaps,  at  the  gate, 

Come  smiling  to  greet  me." 


The  Lost  Friend.  69 


But  never  a  token  or  word 

Has  he  sent  to  me  hither, 
Nor  wherefore** he  went  have  I  heard, 

Nor  wherefore  nor  whither. 

Oh,  what  was  the  hour  and  the  day, 

The  moment  you  left  me, 
When  you  went  on  your  separate  way, 

Oh,  friend,  and  bereft  me? 

Sometime  and  somewhere  shall  we  walk, 
Clear  of  earth,  in  high  places? 

Sometime  and  somewhere  shall  we  talk, 
With  our  hearts  in  our  faces? 

And  sec  all  the  meaning  writ  clear, 
The  depth  and  the  sweetness, 

Apart  from  this  doubt  and  this  fear, 
This  sad  incompleteness? 


A   LOST   DAY. 

WHERE  is  the  day  I  lost,  — 

The  golden  day, 
Beyond  all  price  and  cost, 

That  slipped  away 

Out  of  my  wandering  sight, 
My  careless  hold? 

Where  did  it  lift  in  flight 
Its  wings  of  gold? 

What  were  the  treasures  rare 
It  bore  from  me? 

What  were  the  pleasures  fair 
I  shall  not  see? 


A   Lost  Day.  71 

Ah,  never  day  was  yet 

So  fine,  so  fair, 
So  rich  with  promise  set, 

So  free  from  care, 

As  that  we  mourn  and  sigh 

When  we  do  say,  — 
"  Alas,  how  time  doth  fly, 

I  Ve  lost  a  day  !  " 


DISCONTENT. 

BEFORE  my  steps  she  hovering  flits 
My  foe,  —  the  demon  Discontent ; 

Or  by  my  side  she  sadly  sits 

With  restless  mien  and  eyes  down-bent. 

Most  times,  however,  she  doth  lift 
Her  gaze  beyond  to  something  far  ; 

I   look,  and  through  a  cloudy  rift 
I  see  the  shining  of  a  star. 

Why  should  I  strive  that  star  to  gain  ? 

My  heart  is  faint,  my  courage  spent ; 
Why  should  I  leave  the  grassy  plain, 

O  cruel,  cruel  Discontent. 


Discontent.  73 

But  as  I  cry,  "Oh  why,  oh  why?" 
She  turns  on  me  a  wondering  gaze, 

And  wonderingly  doth  make  reply : 
"  I  lead  you  out  of  slothful  ways, 

"  I  spur  you  on  to  win  the  race 
For  which  you  languish  overspent ; 

No  foe  am  I,  but  by  God's  grace, 
I  am  —  the  anerel  Discontent." 


LUCIFER. 

WHEN  I  went  out  of  Paradise, 

1  turned  a  backward  glance  to  see 

Two  flaming  swords  :  once,  twice,  and  thrice, 
I  turned  and  turned,  ere  I  could  flee. 

Then  down  the  darkened  path  I  sped, 

And  heard  heaven's  gate  behind  me  close  : 

What  matter  then  if,  quick  or  dead, 
The  world  of  men  before  me  rose? 

What  matter  now  indeed,  to-day, 
These  lower  honors,  lower  gains  ! 

Above  me  shines  that  higher  way,  — 

I  might  have  walked  the  heavenly  plains  ! 


FROM    DAY   TO    DAY. 

ONLY  from  day  to  day 
We  hold  our  way, 

Uncertain  ever, 
'Though  hope  and  gay  desire 
Touch  with  their  fire 

Each  fresh  endeavor. 

Only  from  day  to  day 
We  grope  our  way 

Through  hurrying  hours; 
I  kit  still  our  castles  fair 
Lift  to  the  air 

Their  glistening  towers, 


78  Lyrics  and  Legends, 

And  still  from  day  to  day 
Along  the  way 

Beckon  us  ever, 
To  follow,   follow,  follow, 
O'er  hill  and  hollow, 

With  fresh  endeavor. 

Sometimes,  triumphant,  gay, 
The  bugles  play 

And  trumpets  sound 
From  out  those  glistening  towers, 
And  rainbow  showers 

Bedew  the  ground ; 

Then  "sweet,  oh,  sweet  the  way," 
We  smiling  say, 

And  forward  press 
With  swift,  impatient  feet, 
And  hearts  that  beat 
With  eagerness. 


Froui  Day  to   Day.  79 


Yet  still  beyond,   the  gay 
Sweet  bugles  play, 

The  trumpets  blow, 
Howe'er  we  flying  haste, 
Or,  lagging,  waste 

The   hours  that  go ; 

Still  far  and  far  away, 
Till  comes  the  day 

We  gain  that  peak 
In  Darien ;  then,  blind 
No  more,  we  find 

Perchance  what  we  do  seek. 


A    CONQUEROR. 

How  fast  and  close  they  cling, 
These  memories  that  sting  ! 
Days  pass,  years  come  and  go, 
Above  the  ebb  and  flow 
Of  all  this  human  tide,  — 
Still  ever  doth  abide, 
Through  devious  wandering, 
Some  memory  that  will  sting. 

Perhaps  we  thought  one  day, 
Somewhere  upon  our  way, 
Sometime,  somewhere  to  find 
That  we  had  left  behind, 


A    Conqueror.  8 1 

Or  buried  under  flowers, 
These  memories  of  ours, 
And  henceforth  we  should  be 
Of  all  their  venom  free. 

But  never  time  nor  place 
Brings  that  forgetting  grace  ; 
We  gain,   perhaps,  some  height 
Kissed  by  the  morning  light,  — 
We  walk  with  friends  thereon, 
And  Paradise  seems  won ; 
But  in  that  moment  fair, 
Swift  through  the  ambient  air 

Straight  to  our  very  heart 
Flies  that  unerring  dart. 
Nowhere  can  we  escape 
The  shafts  of  that  dark  shape ; 
6 


Lyrics  and  Legends. 


No  height  can  leave  below 
The  arrows  of  that  foe. 
Come,  then,  O  soul,  O  heart, 
Turn  thee,  and  face  the  dart ! 

Fling  off  thy  craven  fears, 
Thy  trembling  and  thy  tears ; 
And  as  that  hero  bold 
Who  crushed  within  his  hold 
The  bristling  Austrian  spears, 
Crush  thou  these  craven  fears. 
Thus  haply  thou  shalt  gain 
That  saving  salt  of  pain 

Embalmed  in  bitterness ; 
Thus  haply  thou  shalt  press 
Still  further  up  and  on, 
Till  higher  heights  are  won, — 


A    Conqueror.  83 

Till  conqueror  at  length, 
By  virtue  of  thy  strength 
Thou  standest,  O  my  soul, 
Before  a  kingly  goal ! 


TAKE    HEART   OF   GRACE. 

TAKE  heart  of  grace,  begin  anew, 
To-day  's  to-day,  not  yesterday, 

And  on  its  budding  bloom  the  dew 
Of  early  morning  still  doth  play. 

Take  heart  of  grace,  and  gather  up 
This  dewy  sweetness  of  the  morn, 

Fill  up  with  this  your  emptied  cup, 
And  pledge  the  fair  hours  newly  born. 

Take  heart  of  grace,  and  look  before, 
Instead  of  backward  on  the  way, 

Wash  out  the  old  regretful  score, 
The  sorrowing  sins  of  yesterday  ; 


Take  Heart  of  Grace.  85 


And  let  the  old  mistakes  and  pain 
Be  cleansed  with  this  refreshing  dew, 

And  make  beginning  once  again, 

With  hope  and  courage  bright  and  new. 

For  what 's  the  world  and  all  its  days, 

P>ut  ours  to  try  and  try  again? 
Not  ours  to  falter  on  its  ways, 

Not  ours  to  fling  aside  for  pain. 

Take  heart  of  grace,  then,  day  by  day,  — 
Take  heart  of  grace,  and  sing  each  morn  : 

"To-day's  to-day,  not  yesterday, 
And  all  the  world  is  newly  born  !  " 


IN   THE    RAIN. 

O  ROBIN,  robin,  singing  in  the  rain, 

While  black  clouds  lower 

Above  your  bower  ! 
O  swallow,  swallow,  pouring  forth  your  strain 

Of  hope  and  cheer, 

While  dull  and  drear 
The  gray  skies  bend  above  your  soaring  flight  !  — 

Come  bring,  come  bring 

To  us  your  spring 
Of  joyous  hopefulness  and  sure  delight ! 

Come  teach  our  human  hearts  your  lack  of  fear, 

From  day  to  day, 

Though  skies  be  gray ; 
Your  happy  faith  and  trust  that  somewhere  near, 


///  tJic  Rain.  87 

Just  out  of  sight, 

The  sun's  bright  light 
Doth  wait  to  break,  and  make  the  world  anew; 

Doth  wait  to  lift 

The  rainy  rift, 

The  lowering  clouds,  and   show  Heaven  shining 
through. 


THE    PILGRIM   VOYAGERS. 

THE  winds  blew  down  a  favoring  gale, 
The  skies  were  clear,  as  they  set  sail,  — 
Those  pilgrims  bold,  from  Holland's  shore, 
Two  hundred  years  ago  and  more. 

Day  after  day,  week  after  week, 
They  sailed  and  sailed,  till,  cold  and  bleak, 
From  icy  coasts  the  breezes  blew. 
Where  had  they  lost  the  happy  clew 

That  would  have  brought  them  as  they  planned 

Unto  that  fair  Virginian  land,  — 

That  southern  shore  that  bore  the  name 

Of  England's  queen  and  Raleigh's  fame? 


92  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

But  vainly  then  they  trimmed  their  sails ; 
Caught  in  the  wild  New-England  gales, 
They  yielded  to  their  fate,  and  found 
Their  shelter  on  New  England's  ground. 

Not  this  the  haven  they  had  planned,  — 
This  rocky  coast,  this  wintry  land  : 
Yet  none  the  less  in  full  accord. 
They  blessed   "  the  leading  of  the   Lord," 

And  built  upon  the  rugged  earth 
The  homes  that  gave  a  nation  birth, 
And  sowed  and  reaped  their  scanty  grain, 
With  faith  that  conquered  loss  with  gain. 

What  armed  force  did  ever  wrest 
From  any  country,  east  or  west, 
Such  triumphs  as  these  gallant  men 
With  faith  and  love  did  conquer  then  ? 


The  Pilgrim    Voyagers.  93 

No  dreams  of  power,  no  greed  of  gold, 
Did  tempt  these  men  to  leave  the  old 
And  seek  the  new,  —  for  liberty, 
Fair  Freedom's  dower,  they  crossed  the  sea; 

That  freedom  that  would  give  to  man 
New  life,  and  laws  of  simple  plan ; 
Where  justice,  mercy,  love,  and  peace 
Should  rule  and  reign  without  surcease. 

With  what  success  they  builded  there 
Upon  this  plan  of  freedom  fair, 
We  know  to-day,  who  live  to  see 
The  splendor  of  their  victory. 

And  whoso  says  that  we  to-day 
Have  lost  the  old  heroic  way, 
Shall  find  the  hero  and  his  deed 
To  fit  the  very  hour  of  need. 


Lyrics  and  Legends. 

For  somewhere  yet,  beneath  the   face 
Of  pessimistic  commonplace,  — 
That  shadow  on  our  shining  sun,  — 
The  ardent  pilgrim  blood  doth  run. 


ON    PLYMOUTH    BAY. 

DOWN  Plymouth  Bay  we  sailing  bore 
Past  rocky  ledge  and  sandy  shore, 
While  sunset  lights  streamed  redly  down, 
And  touched  with  fire  the  quaint  old  town 

Where  Bradford  ruled,  and  Brewster  prayed, 
And  Standish  went  forth  undismayed 
To  face  the  lawless  Indian  foe, 
In  that  old  time  so  long  ago. 

Past  rocky  ledge  and  sandy  shore 
We  sailing  sung,  as  on  we  bore, 
A  foolish  song  of  love,  until 
A  voice  arose  with  sudden  thrill, 


96  Lyrics  and  Legends, 

And  sent  across  the  murmuring  waves 
The  fervent  words,  the  stalwart  staves, 
The  long-drawn  measures  of  a  psalm 
They  might  have  sung  to  lift  and  calm 

Their  fainting  souls  in  those  dark  days 
When  unknown  perils  blocked  the  ways, 
And,  sore  beset,  the  Pilgrim  band 
Watered  with  tears  their  new-found  land. 

From  end  to  end  the  psalm  we  sung, 
And  as  the  brave  old  words  outrung, 
With  echoing  thrills  across  the  bay, 
With  echoing  thrills  that  distant  day 

Pressed  close  upon  us  as  we  bore 
Past  rocky  ledge  and  sandy  shore, 
Until,  as  deepening  night  came  down 
And  shrouded  half  the  little  town, 


On  Ply  month  Bay.  97 

Anil  hid  the  wharves  in  ghostly  gray, 
We  seemed  ourselves  to  be  as  they 
Who  wandered  here  by  wild  winds  blown, 
Strange  seekers  of  the  vast  unknown,  — 

With  something  of  their  aim  and  thought, 
Their  high,  heroic  purpose  brought 
To  bear  upon  our  commonplace, 
Just  for  a  moment's  saving  grace. 

But   in  that  moment's  grace  what  fire 
Did  flash  along  the  electric  wire 
That  knits  the  deathless  bonds  of  race  ! 
What  flame  did  pierce  our  commonplace, 

To  show  us,  by  its  searching  rays, 
The  contrast  of  those  ancient  days,  — 
Those  high,   heroic  lives,  to  these 
Of  lower  aims  and  selfish  case  ! 


OUR    FRENCH    ALLIES. 

DARK  was  that  hour  before  the  light 

That  ushered  in  the  morn 
Of  that  great  day,  when  to  the  world 

A  nation's  life  was  born. 

For  foes  without,  and  foes  within, 

Had  threatened  at  the  start, 
Till  men  once  brave,  and  men  once  bold, 

Did  falter,  faint  of  heart. 

Yet  stanch  and  firm  —  their  faith  and  trust 
Untouched  by  fear  or  doubt  — 

That  little  band  of  patriots  stood 
To  fight  the  battle  out ; 


Our  French  Allies.  99 

To  fight,  and  win  their  freehold  right 

Unto  the  soil  they  trod, 
The  homes  their  pilgrim  fathers  held 

As  a  free  gift  from  God,  — 

The  homes  on  which  old  England  laid 

The  pressure  of  her  hand, 
And  taxed  at  will,  until  uprose 

A  protest  in  the  land ; 

And  force  met  force,  and  might  met  right, 

While  parliament  and  crown 
Swore  out  a  mighty  oath  to  bring 

"Those  boasting  Yankees  down." 

J]ut  day  by  day,  and  week  by  week, 

And  month  by  month  went  by, 
And  still  "those  boasting  Yankees"  dared 

Old  England  to  defy. 


IOO  Lyrics  and  Legends. 


"What  folly  this!"  the   British  cried, 
"What  madness,  when  the  end 

Is  ours  to  take,  and  ours  to  make 
These  rebel  subjects  bend, 

"And  own  the  power  they  now  defy, 

And  pay  the  rebel  debt 
Of  treason's  score,  which  now  they  flout 

With  braggart  thrust  and  threat." 

Still  grimly  stanch  they  held  their  place, 

The  little  patriot  band,  — 
By  foes  without,  and  foes  within, 

Beset  on  every  hand. 

Half-clad,  half-fed,  they  faltered  not; 

When  round  about  their  way 
The  shadows  closed,  they  only  said, 

"To  morrow '11  bring  the  day." 


Our  French  Allies.  101 

T  was  then,  just  at  the  darkest  hour, 

When  hope  was  well-nigh  spent, 
And  prophecies  of  ill  were  rife, 

That   France   her  message  sent. 

Oh,  gallant  won!  of  cheer  and  help, 

Forerunner  of  the  deed 
That  followed  fast,  what  life  you  brought 

In  that  dark   hour  of  need  ! 

What  life,  and   health,  and  courage,  then, 

Sprung  up  afresh  to  give 
New  power  and  strength,  new  hope  and  heart, 

And  bid  the  nation  live. 

O  generous  land,  when  other  lands 

Looked  on  in  cold  disdain, 
Who  sent  your  timely  aid  to  us, 

Not  once,  but  once  again, 


IO2  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

Whose  costly  fleets  brought  out  to  us 
Your  country's  pride  and  flower, 

What  hearts  have  we,  what  memories, 
To  overlook  that  hour  ! 

To  hear  indifferently  his  name 
Whose  youthful  ardor  spurred 

His  country  on  to  such  response 
Of  gallant  deed  and  word  ! 

Whose  noble  eloquence  inspired 

King  Louis'  timid  soul, 
Whose  fiery  courage  caught  and  held 

All   France  in  its  control ! 

Ah,  let  the  land  that  gave  him  birth, 

Indifferently  forget, 
Or  hear  without  a  thrill  at  heart 

The  name  of  La  Fayette, 


Our  FrcncJi  Allies.  103 

But  never,  while  the  world  endures 

And  time  and  seasons  roll, 
Let  my  America  forget 

Her  debt  to  that  great  soul. 

Let  her  remember  year  by  year 

What  France  with  him  bestowed, 
How  generously  in  time  of  need 

Her  warm  heart  overflowed. 

Oh,  my  America,  to-day 

Strong-limbed,  of  giant  power, 
Look  back  with  gratitude  and  love 

To  that  long  vanished  hour. 

Look  backward,  then,  with  outstretched  hands, 

Go  forth  to  seek  her  there  — 
There  where  she  sits  beside  her  Seine, 

This  kinglcss  "France  the  Fair." 


1O4  Lyrics  and  Legends. 


Go  forth  with  gifts,  love-gifts  to  her, 

Nor  longer  make  delay ; 
Let  loose  the  flood-tide  of  your  heart, 

America,  to-day  ! 


THE    SIEGE    OF   CALAIS. 

TWENTY  trumpets,  blowing,  blowing, 
Fifers  playing,  drums  a-going, 
Bugles  calling  to  the  fray, 
When  King  Edward  took  his  way 
To  the  city  of  Calais. 

Down  he  rode  with  banners  streaming, 
Sabres  shining,  lances  gleaming, 

Down  he  rode,  the  kingly  head 
Of  the  glittering  line  he  led, 
Rode  into  the  sunset  red, 


io8  Lyrics  and  Legends. 


• 


Westward,  where  in  bold  defying 

Fifty  Calais  flags  were  flying. 

Watching  from  the  turret  heights 
Laughed  aloud  the  Calais  knights, 
Soldiers  famed  in   famous  fights. 

As  they  laughed,  still  near  and  nearer 

Rode  the   King,  and  clear  and  clearer 

Just  beyond  the  guarded  moat 

Trumpet-call  and  bugle-note 

On  the  evening  air  did  float. 

Then,  with  splendid  pennons  streaming, 
Golden  lions  and  lilies  gleaming 
On  the  royal  standards  there, 
Forth  there  rode  a  herald  fair 
With   a  confident,  bold  air. 


TJic  Siege  of  Calais.  109 

Swift  he  rode,  with  pace  unfaltering, 

Not  a  sign  of  doubt  or  paltering ; 
Swift  he  rode,  as  sped  by  fate, 
Straight  unto  the  Calais  gate, 
Clothed  about  with  royal  state. 


"In  the  king's  name,  open  straightway!" 
Called  he  there  before  the  gateway. 

From  their  fortress  strong  and  high, 
Scornfully  they  made   reply, 
"  In  the  king's  name,  we  defy 

"  British  greed  and  British  power. 

Here  in  fortress  and  in  tower, 

France  shall  keep  and  hold  her  own, 

Over  Calais  reign  alone, 

With  her  king  upon  his  throne  ! " 


iio  Lyrics  and  Legends. 


But  alas  for  Calais,  lying 

Month  by  month  there,  starving,  dying, 
In  her  melancholy  plight 
Held  in  siege  by  England's  might 
With  her  armed  force  in  sight,  - 

Month  by  month  until,  despairing, 
Forth  they  sent  a  warder  bearing 

This  frank  message  :  they  would  fling 
Open  wide  their  gates,  and  bring 
Straight  unto  the  English  king 

The  keys  of  Calais  if  in  pity 
He  would  pass  from  out  the  city 

All  the  people,  young  and  old,  — 
Nobles,  merchants,  soldiers  bold, 
All  the  populace,  full  told. 


The  Siege  of  Calais.  1 1 1 

Hot  with  wrath,  the  king  made  answer,— 
"Tell  your  lords  that  every  man,  sir, 
All  the  people,  young  and  old, 
Nobles,  merchants,  soldiers  bold, 
All  the  populace,  full  told, 

"To  the  English  crown  shall  render 
Unconditional  surrender, 

Shall  be  subject  unto  me, 

Or  for  ransom  or  for  fee, 

Ere  the  siege  shall  lifted  be  !  " 


When  returned  the  Calais  warder 
With  this  message,  flushed  with  ardor, 

With  their  French  blood  mounting  high, 
Swift  the  lords  did  make  reply, 
"Tell  the  king  that  we  can  die,  — 


1 1 2  Lyrics  and  Legends. 


"  Bravely  starve  without  his  pity, 

Shut  within  our  guarded  city ; 
But  to  turn  so  late,  so  late, 
Cowards  at  the  very  gate,  — 
Send  unto  this  blindfold  fate 

"Comrades  who  have  starved  together, 
Through  a  twelvemonth's  varied  weather,  — 

Shall  a  Frenchman  stoop  so  low, 

Yield  like  this  unto  a  foe, 

Faithless,  heartless?     No,  —  ah,  no  !  " 

Stirred  with  something  like  relenting 
At  this  courage,  half  repenting 

Of  his  tyrannous  decree, 

Edward  cried  impatiently, 

"Tell  these  Frenchmen  now  from  me, 


The  Siege  of  Calais.  1 1 

"If  as  ransom  they  will  straightway 

Send  me  by  the  city  gateway 

Six  chief  merchants  of  the  town, 

Citizens  of  high  renown, 

Swift  my  herald  shall  ride  down 

"Into  Calais,  and  proclaim  there 
Peace  and  pardon  in  my  name  there  ; 
Peace  and  pardon  full  and  fain, 
Unto  those  who  do  remain 
Subject  to  my  sovereign  reign." 

"  Never  !  never  !  "  rose  the  bitter 

Cry  of  Calais.     "  It  were  fitter 
We  should  die  together  here 
Than  to  buy  our  lives  so  dear  !  " 
But  at  this  a  voice  rose  clear, 


Lyrics  and  Legends. 


Saying,  "  Friends,  it  were  a  pity 

Thus  to  doom  to  death  a  city ; 

Are  there  not  at  this  sore  need 
Men  of  high  renown  and  deed 
Who  will  follow  where  I  lead?" 

Then  forth  stepped,  with  gallant  bearing, 
Six  brave  men  whose  noble  daring 

Was  to  save  the  city  there 
•     From  the  doom  of  slow  despair; 

Forth  they  stepped,  while  sob  and  prayer 

Broke  the  cheers  that  were  ascending 

In  a  pitiful,   strange  blending  ; 
For  alas  !  —  what  cruel  fate 
Lurked  behind  that  iron  gate 
Where  King  Edward  held  his  state  ! 


The  Siege  of  Calais.  115 

Hopeless  then  of  English  pity, 
Forth  they  went  from  out  the  city, 

Bare  of  foot  and  bare  of  head, 

And  by  halters  meanly  led, 

As  the  king  had  grimly  said. 

When  before  him  in  this  fashion 
They  were  brought,  with  sudden  passion 
Loud  he  thundered,  "  Let  them  die  !  " 
Then  arose  a  tender  cry : 
"  O  my  liege,  my  lord,  put  by 

"  In  this  hour  war's  cruel  measure  ! 
Calais  yields  her  life  and  treasure 

To  your  mercy,  O  my  king  ! 

Give  her  then,  unreckoning, 

Mercy  that  befits  a  king." 


116  Lyrics  and  Legends^ 

In  a  moment's  breathless  span  there, 
Joyfully  from  man  to  man  there 

Ran  the  whisper  low  yet  keen, 
"  T  is  Philippa ;  't  is  the  Queen  !  " 
Startled  from  his  warlike  mien, 

Flushed  King  Edward  as  he  listened, 
As  he  saw  the  eyes  that  glistened. 

Then,  with  voice  that  vainly  tried 
To  be  fierce  with  wrath  and  pride, 
"Dame,  my  dame!"  he  sharply  cried. 

But,  before  him  straightway  kneeling, 
Spake  the  Queen  in  soft  appealing  : 

"  For  my  sake  !  "  she  sweetly  said, 
Lifting  up  her  drooping  head, 
In  her  face  both  love  and  dread. 


The  Siege  of  Calais.  117 

For  her  sake  !     The  stern  lips  parted  ; 
There  he  stood,  this  lion-hearted 

Soldier,  conqueror,  and  king, 

For  her  sake  considering 

Mercy  that  befits  a  king  ! 

For  her  sake  !     Yet  when,  assenting, 
Turned  he  there  with  swift  relenting, 
Who  that  looked  upon  his  face, 
Merciful  with  pardoning  grace, 
Failed  the  glad  relief  to  trace  ? 

So  at  last  the  grand  old  story 

Ends  in  conquered  Calais's  glory ; 

For  not  Edward's  might  and  skill, 
Nor  Philippa's  gracious  will, 
Through  the  centuries  doth  thrill, 


n8  Lyrics  and  Legends, 

But  that  deed  so  great  and  tender, 
Where  in  noble  self-surrender 

Six  brave  men  in  solemn  state 
Passed  beyond  that  iron  gate, 
Halter-led,  to  meet  their  fate  ! 


BALBOA. 

WITH  restless  step  of  discontent, 
Day  after  day  he  fretting  went 
Along  the  old  accustomed  ways 
That  led  to  easeful  length  of  days. 

But  far  beyond  the  fragrant  shade 
Of  orange  groves  his  glances  strayed 
To  where  the  white  horizon  line 
Caught  from  the  sea  its  silvery  shine. 

He  knew  the  taste  of  that  salt  spray, 
He  knew  the  wind  that  blew  that  way ; 
Ah,  once  again  to  mount  and  ride 
Upon  that  pulsing  ocean  tide,  — 


I2O  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

To  find  new  lands  of  virgin  gold, 
To  wrest  them  from  the  savage  hold, 
To  conquer  with  the  sword  and  brain 
Fresh  fields  and  fair  for  royal  Spain  ! 

This  was  the  dream  of  wild  desire 
That  set  his  gallant  heart  on  fire, 
And  stirred  with  feverish  discontent 
That  soul  for  nobler  issues  meant. 

Sometimes  his  children's  laughter  brought 
A  thrill  that  checked  his  restless  thought ; 
Sometimes  a  voice  more  tender  yet 
\Yould  soothe  the  fever  and  the  fret. 

Thus  day  by  day,  until  one  day 
Came  news  that  in  the  harbor  lay 
A  ship  bound  outward  to  explore 
The  treasures  of  that  western  shore, 


Balboa.  \  2 1 

Which  bold  adventurers  as  yet 

Had  failed  to  conquer  or  forget ; 

"  Yet  where  they  failed,  and  failing  died, 

My  will  shall  conquer  !  "  Balboa  cried. 

But  when  on  Darien's  shore  he  stept, 
And  fast  and  far  his  vision  swept, 
lie  saw  before  him,  white  and  still, 
The  Andes  mocking  at  his  will. 

Then  like  a  flint  he  set  his  face ; 
Let  others  falter  from  their  place, 
His  hand  and  foot,  his  sturdy  soul 
Should  seek  and  gain  that  distant  goal  ! 

With  speech  like  this  he  fired  the  land, 
And  gathered  to  his  bold  command 
A  troop  of  twenty  score  or  more, 
To  follow  where  he  led  before. 


122  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

They  followed  him  day  after  day 
O'er  burning  lands  where  ambushed  lay 
The  waiting  savage  in  his  lair, 
And  fever  poisoned  all  the  air. 

But  like  a  sweeping  wind  of  flame 
A  conqueror  through  all  he  came  ; 
The  savage  fell  beneath  his  hand, 
Or  led  him  on  to  seek  the  land 

That  richer  yet  for  golden  gain 
Stretched  out  beyond  the  mountain  chain. 
Steep  after  steep  of  rough  ascent 
They  followed,  followed,  worn  and  spent, 

Until  at  length  they  came  to  where 

The  last  peak  lifted  near  and  fair ; 

Then  Balboa  turned  and  waved  aside 

His  panting  troops.  '•  Rest  here,"  he  cried, 


Balboa.  123 

"And  wait  for  me."     And  with  a  tread 
Of  trembling  haste,  he  quickly  sped 
Along  the  trackless  height,  alone 
To  seek,  to  reach,  his  mountain  throne. 

Step  after  step  he  mounted  swift ; 

The  wind  blew  down  a  cloudy  drift ; 

From  some  strange  source  he  seemed  to  hear 

The  music  of  another  sphere. 

Step  after  step ;  the  cloud-winds  blew 

Their  blinding  mists,  then  through  and  through 

Sun-cleft,  they  broke,  and  all  alone 

He  stood  upon  his  mountain  throne. 

Before  him  spread  no  paltry  lands, 
To  wrest  with  spoils  from  savage  hands ; 
But,  fresh  and  fair,  an  unknown  world 
Of  mighty  sea  and  shore  unfurled 


124  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

Its  wondrous  scroll  beneath  the  skies. 
Ah,  what  to  this  the  flimsy  prize 
Of  gold  and  lands  for  which  he  came 
With  hot  ambition's  sordid  aim  ! 

Silent  he  stood  with  streaming  eyes 
In  that  first  moment  of  surprise, 
'Ihen  on  the  mountain-top  he  bent, 
This  conqueror  of  a  continent, 

In  wordless  ecstasy  of  prayer, — 
Forgetting  in  that  moment  there, 
With  Nature's  God  brought  face  to  face, 
All  vainer  dreams  of  pomp  and  place. 

Thus  to  the  world  a  world  was  given. 
Where  lesser  men  had  vainly  striven, 
And  striving  died,  —  this  gallant  soul, 
Divinely  guided,  reached  the  goal. 


THE    HERO    OF   THE  FORT. 

WHAT,  you  never  heard  of  Boisrose, 
The  hero  bold  and  brave  and  gay, 
Who  scaled  the  rock  and  took  the  fort, 
Then,  bolder  still,  did  make  report 
Of  deed  and  claims  before  the  king 
Without  a  word  of  faltering? 

And  Rosny,1  he  who  afterward 
Was  Duke  of  Sully,  stood  and  heard 
With  chuckling  mirth  the  sturdy  claim 
This  hero  dared  thus  coolly  name  : 
"  Six  hundred  feet,  your  liege,  we  went, 
Six  hundred  feet  of  sheer  ascent 
1  Marquis  Rosny. 


126  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

Above  the  surface  of  the  sea,  — 
A  cable  rope  flung  down  to  me 
And  fastened  firm,  by  one  outside 
The  fortress  wall,  our  only  guide. 
Who  was  our  friend  within  the  camp? 
A  sailor,  Sire,  of  such  a  stamp 
As  might  a  hundred  heroes  make  — 
I  'd  give  a  hundred   for  his  sake  ! 
And  for  this  deed,  which  to  the  crown 
Brings  back  again  the  fortress  town, 
I  only  asked  your  royal  grace 
A  rignt  to  rule  the  little  place, 
As  governor  from  this  time  on. 

"  And  thus  I  said  to  Villars  there, 
Your  admiral  —  how  he  did  stare, 
When  my  conditions  I  made  plain  !  — 
To  yield  the  fort,  might  I  remain 


The  Hero  of  the  Fort.  127 

As  governor  of  the  little  town. 

He  raved  and  stormed  ;  then,  marching  down 

With  all  his  army,  made  demand 

That  forthwith  I  should  yield  command 

Without  conditions,  and  retire 

From  fort  and  camp  ;  then  straightway,  Sire, 

I  sent  to  you  my  proffered  claim. 

When  Marshal  Biron  strutting  came 

With  vain  pretences  of  his  power. 

If  words  were  gifts,  I  'd  had  a  shower 

Of  all  the  treasures  in  the  land. 

'Twas  thus  he  wheedled  my  command 

From  out  my  grasp.     I  was  to  be  — 

The  Lord  knows  what,  your  Majesty,  — 

The  Governor  of  Feschamp,  or 

Some  fine  equivalent  therefor. 

And  this  was  all,  for  not  a  word, 

Ay,  not  a  sign,  since  then  I  've  heard ; 


128  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

And,  Sire,  he  promised  in  your  name 
At  once  to  heed  and  grant  my  claim  !  " 

The  speaker  paused  indignant  here  ; 
The  marquis  grinned  from  ear  to  ear, 
And  sent  the  king  a  look  that  said, 
"Was  e'er  so  bold  a  varlet  bred?" 

But  he,  the  good  King  Henri,  turned, 
And  smiling,  cried,  "  'T  is  fairly  earned, 
As  you  assert,  brave  Boisrose, 
And  as  my  Rosny  here  did  say 
Before  you  came  ;    ay,  ay,  you  see 
You  Ve  still  to  learn,  if  majesty 
And  courts  delay,  no  soldier  yet 
Did  ever  any  tale  forget 
Of  gallant  deeds ;  so,  go  your  way, 
And  with  you  take,  Sieur  Boisrose, 


The  Hero  of  tlie  Fort.  129 

A  soldier's  word,  signed  by  a  king, 

That  such  a  hero's  deed  shall  bring 

Fit  recompense ;  and  Rosny  here 

Shall  prove  to  you  how  near  and  dear 

He  also  holds  a  hero's  fame. 

Now,  marquis,  speak,  and  strike  with  shame 

This  doubting  hero ;  tell  him  now 

What  fine  award  you  made  me  vow 

In  place  of  Feschamp  to  bestow." 

The  king  rose   up  ;   the  marquis  low 
Before  him  bent ;  then,  smiling,  turned 
To  Boisrose,  whose  brown  cheek  burned 
With  frank  amazement  thus  to  hear 
That  Rosny  held  his  exploit  dear. 

And   what  was  this  the  marquis  there 
Was  saying,  with   that  smiling  air? 

9 


130  Lyrics  and  Legends. 


"  The  rank  of  captain  from  that  day, 
Twelve  thousand  livres  the  yearly  pay, 
With  twice  a  thousand  crowns  in  hand." 

Ah,  what  was  Feschamp's  dull  command 
To  this,   indeed,  —  to  serve  the  king 
In  camp  and  field?     Half  faltering, 
With  all  his  braggart  bluster  fled, 
Bold  Boisrose  bent  down  his  head, 
And  murmured  low  :  "  Ah,  Sire,  forgive 
My  angry  doubts  ;  henceforth  I  live 
For  you  and   France,  and  if  a  deed, 
An  act  of  mine,  could  e  'er  at  need 
My  lord  the  marquis  serve,  perchance 
He  too  may  pardon  me  —  for  France." 


JIM. 

OUT  in  a  fog-bank  we  went  clown, — 

Four-and-t\venty  men  full  told, 
Fishermen  all,  from  Provincetown, 

None  of  'em  more  than  thirty  year  old. 

We  'd  cleared  the  banks  and  were  homeward  bound, 
With  such  a  load  as  you  never  saw,  — 

Cod  and  mackerel  fine  and  sound,- 

Twelve  hundred  weight  without  a  flaw. 

The  wind  was  west  and  the  sky  was  clear 
When  we  set  our  sails  that  night  for  home  ; 

* 

Nobody  had  a  thought  of  fear 

An  hour  before  the  end  had  come. 


132  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

Jim  was  whistlin'  —  a  way  he  had  — 
A  theatre  tune  he  'd  heard  somewhere ; 

I  can  hear  it  now,  and  can  see  the  lad, 

With  his  handsome  shoulders  broad  and  square. 

He  stood  at  the   helm,  and  he  knew  his  place, 

Nobody  knew  it  better  than  he. 
One  minute  the  moon  lit  up  his  face, 

The  next,  I  swear  I  couldn't  see 

Half  a  foot  before  me  there  ! 

Just  as  sudden  as  that  it  fell, 
That  white  fog-bank,  —  a  devil's  snare 

It  seemed  to  me,  from  the  pit  of  hell  ! 

Four-and-twenty  men  full  told, 

And  never  one  of  'em  saved  but  me. 

None  of  'em  more  than  thirty  year  old, 
As  likely  lads  as  ever  you  see. 


Jim.  133 

Fisherman's  luck,   perhaps  you  say. 

The  parson  said  pretty  nigh  the  same, 
When  he  tried  to  comfort  the  folks  that  day, 

'Though  he  fixed  it  up  by  another  name. 

Well,  it 's  five-and-thirty  years  to-night 
Since  we  parted  company,  Jim  and  me,  — 

Since  I  saw  him  there  in  that  March  moonlight, 
His  hand  to  the  helm,  his  face  to  the  sea. 

Five-and-thirty  years,  and  Jim  — 

He  's  a  young  man  still,  I  s'pose,  while  I, 

My  hair  is  white,  and  my  eyes  are  dim. 
But,  mate,  I  've  a  notion,  when  I  die 

He  '11  be  at  the  helm  and  steer  me  through 
The  shoaling  tide  to  my  journey's  end  : 

For  Jim  and  me  —  well  I  never  knew 

Such  a  fellow  as  Jim  to  stick  to  a  friend. 


134  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

And  I  Ve  had  a  thought  I  Ve  never  told 
In  all  these  years  before  —  that  Jim 

Would  never  have  lost  his  grip  and  hold, 
As  somehow  I  lost  my  grip  on  him. 

We  went  down  into  the  fog  together ; 

He  was  hurt  from  the  first,  but  I  had   him  fast 
In  a  clutch  like  death,  I  thought ;  but  whether 

My  strength  or  courage  failed  at  the  last 

I  never  could  tell,  but  only  know 

That  all  at  once  I  found  my  hand 
Loose  and  empty  —      God,  what  a  blow  ! 

Then  I  drifted  alone  to  an  empty  land. 

But  I  have  n't  much  time  here  now  to  spend  ; 

My  hearing 's  dull  and  my  eyes  are  dim. 
What 's  that  you  ask.  "  afraid  of  the  end  "  ? 

Afraid!     Why,  the  end  is — JIM! 


THE    COLONEL'S   STORY. 

"  COME,  tell  us  a  story,  a  long  ago  story 

Of  some  wonderful  Christmas  before  we  were  born ; 

Some  story  that  brings  in  the  war  and  its  glory 
And    that    soldier    coat    hanging    there    dusty    and 
worn." 

The  gallant  old  Colonel  laughed  as  he  listened 
To  this  eager  demand,  from  this  eager  young  crew ; 

But  laugh  as  he  might,  his  kindly  eyes  glistened, 
And  his  pulses  leaped  up,  at  the  picture  they  drew. 

"Come,  tell  you  a  story  of  war  and  of  glory?" 
He  lightly  repeated  ;  "  ah,  what  shall  I  tell 

You  boys  of  to-day  of  that  long  ago  story, 

When  we   rode   to   the   tune   of    the   shot   and   the 
shell  ? 


136  Lyrics  and  Legends. 

"You've  thought  when  you've   read  of  the  start  and 
the  sally, 

The  bugle's  gay  call,  the  drum  and  the  fife, 
That  whether  we  rode  to  a  rout  or  a  rally, 

'T  was  all  one  to  us  —  a  gay  soldier's  life. 

"Ah,  boys,  you  forget,  when  the  bugle  is  calling, 
And  the  drum  and  the  fife  set  the  gay  flags  a-flying, 

That  along  either  side  brave  fellows  are  falling, 
And   the   shouts  of  the   living  are   mixed  with  the 
dying. 

"  You  forget  what  we  lose  even  when  we  are  winning  — 
No  victory  yet  was  won  without  cost ; 

We  silently  fill  up  the  ranks  that  are  thinning ; 
We  cover  with  glory  the  list  of  the  lost. 

"Brave  fellows  on  either  side  fighting  and  falling,— 
Ah,  well  I  remember  that  terrible  day. 

When,  wounded  and  faint,  on  the  field  I  lay  crying 
For  a  cup  of  cold  water,  a  trooper  in  gray 


The  Colonel's  Story.  137 


"Wheeled,  stooped  from  his  saddle,  and  poured  down 
my  throat 

A  draught  from  his  canteen,  then  galloped  away ; 
But  fast  as  he  galloped,   I  saw  his  gray  coat 

And  the  cavalier  hat  in  the  light  of  the  day. 

"And    the   day — it  was  Christmas,  the   day  that  we 

lost 
On  the  heights  by  the  fort,  and  this    trooper,  you 

know, 
Who   had  stopped  as  he  rode,  without  counting  the 

cost 

In  the  rain   of  the  shot   and  the  shell,  was  —  our 
foe  ! 

"When  you  read  now  of  deeds  that  lead  up  to  glory 
Through  the  gallant  bold  charges  of  armies  at  bay, 

Just  pause  for  a  moment,  and  think  of  my  story, 
And  the  deed  of  my  silent  brave  trooper  in  gray." 


THE   LITTLE    FOES. 

ALL  in  and  out,  and  up  and  down 
The  crooked  streets  of  Boston  town, 
King  George's  troops  had  held  their  way 
Through  many  a  weary  night  and  day. 

And  walking  forth,  by  day  or  night, 
The  townsfolk  saw  the  bitter  sight 
Of  British  sentries  pacing  down 
The  streets  of  their  beloved  town ; 

And  heard,  wherever  they  did  fare, 
The  challenge  cry  of,  "Who  goes  there?' 
To  stay  their  steps  and  bar  their  way, 
By  day  and  night,  and  night  and  day. 


The  Little  Foes.  139 


One  day  another  sound  was  heard,  — 
The  cannon's  roar,  that  sent  its  word 
Of  battle   forth,   to  wake   and  thrill 
The  echoing  heights  of  Bunker  Hill. 

It  happ'd  that  on  the  mall  that  day 

A  beardless  boy  did  sentry  play, 

And  challenged  proudly,  "Who  goes  there?" 

Of  every  soul  who  met  him  there. 

One  came  at  last  at  headlong  pace ; 
He  mocked  the  sentry  to  his  face, 
And  with  a  schoolboy's  sturdy  blow 
He  laid  the  bayonet-bearer  low  ! 

Then,  hand  to  hand,  they  grappled  there, 
And  "  Rebel  !  "   "  Tyrant  !  "  rent  the  air 
In  tones  of  wrath,   till,  loud  and  shrill, 
A  voice  came  shouting  o'er  the  hill. 


140  Lyrics  and  Legends, 


One  word  they  heard  the  shrill  voice  cry  : 
"Defeat!    defeat!"  then  riding  by 
At  break-neck  speed,  dust-stained  and  pale, 
The  messenger  poured  forth  his  tale.. 

And  what  was  that  !     What  names  were  those 
The  shrill  voice  called?     The  boyish  foes 
Leap  to  their  feet,  cry  "  truce,"  and  chase 
The  break-neck  rider  on  his  race. 

So,  speeding  on,  they  swiftly  gain 
The  rider's  side,  who  slackens  rein 
To  tell  the  crowd  the  news  he  's  brought 
Of  how  the  battle  has  been  fought. 

He  tells  it  all,  —  that  gallant  story,  — 
The  dire  defeat,  the  loss  and  glory ; 
And  who  was  wounded,  who  was  dead,  — 
Until  the  tumult  rose  and  spread, 


TJic  Little  Foes.  141 

And  bitter  cries  and  curses  fell ; 
But  dumb,  as  if  beneath  a  spell, 
The  little  sentry  turned  aside, 
Blind  with  the   tears  he  strove  to  hide. 

And  all  unseeing,  white  with  woe, 
Forgetting  for  the  time  his  foe,  — 
Forgetting  everything  but  this  : 
His  father's  last  good-by  and  kiss, 

The  little  Yankee  lad  leaps  down 
The  grassy  slope  that  fronts  the  town, 
And  turning  with  uncertain  pace, 
He  meets  the  sentry  face  to  face. 

Through  falling  tears  they  staring  stand 
A  moment,  then  with  outstretched  hand, 
The  little   British   sentry  cries, 
With  breaking  voice  and  tearful  eyes, 


142  Lyrics  and  Legends. 


"  My  father,  too,   is  shot  there  —  dead  !  " 
The  Yankee  lad  bends  down  his  head. 
And  hand  meets  hand,  and  hate  's  forgot 
In  this  their  common  loss  and  lot. 


THE     END. 


